


moonlight making crosses

by eunwoozi



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, boyfriends go ghost-hunting, buzzfeed unsolved au, its not scary trust me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-24 18:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21104015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eunwoozi/pseuds/eunwoozi
Summary: They hunt ghosts for a living (sort of), but Jihoon would rather not provoke the paranormal whenever possible, and Junhui doesn't believe in ghosts, making their job all the more difficult.ghost-hunting boyfriends au





	moonlight making crosses

**Author's Note:**

> hello it's me again. believe it or not i do have wips that aren't junhoon.
> 
> i've had this idea rattling around in my head ever since i watched [woozi in an abandoned building](https://www.vlive.tv/video/98662?channelCode=F99B3) and i decided to write it for junhoon halloween fest! 
> 
> this is based on the bfus ep abt waverly hills hospital! u don't need to have watched the show beforehand though. i do mention a little bit of the background behind the hauntings, so CW for mentions of death. please let me know if you need anything else tagged! 
> 
> title is from snow and dirty rain by richard siken
> 
> i hope you enjoy!

Jihoon wants this on the record: He is not _scared_ of ghosts. He believes in ghosts, which is something he will readily admit to. He’s not ashamed of this fact. The world is unbelievably large and vast—who’s to say that ghosts don’t exist? And anyways, he would rather err on the cautious side. If ghosts are real, then it’s good to avoid doing anything that would provoke their wrath. If they aren’t—well, he doesn’t lose anything from it. It’s a win-win, really.

He told Junhui as much, on their first day working together. Junhui had just nodded attentively, only interjecting to ask: “what do you mean provoke?” 

“Hey ghouls, the boys are here! Come and take us!” Junhui shouts cheerily.

Jihoon just closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

He doesn’t quite know how he ended up here. Here, as in Louisville, Kentucky. Here, as in the Waverly Hills Hospital. Here, as in next to Junhui practically asking for a demonic possession. 

Soonyoung had come to him a fateful two years ago, practically begging him to be a co-host on his new series.

It was going to be a ghost-hunting series, made for their Halloween-themed content. Soonyoung needed a skeptic and a believer to provide two different points of views. He already had a skeptic—Junhui, another video producer at the company. At the time, Jihoon had only worked with Junhui on one other occasion, but it was a large shoot that had them running in opposite directions the majority of the time. Going from email chains and Slack messages to being co-hosts on a new ghost-hunting series together was a little out of his comfort zone, to say the least.

“Why can’t you do it?” Jihoon had looked at Soonyoung exasperatedly. He was in the middle of a 7-hour editing session, his eyes bleary and dried out from staring at the screen all day.

“I’ll be doing sound and it’s easier to produce behind the camera.” Soonyoung pouted.

Jihoon didn’t say anything, just returning to the screen in front of him and opening another tab to search for royalty-free background music.

“Come on, Jihoon. It won’t be anything big—four or five episodes, at most!” When he still didn’t reply, Soonyoung rolled his chair closer to him, shoving his face in front of the screen and blocking it. Jihoon hated their open office concept, with a passion. “Junhui is a really nice guy!” He continued, eyes pleading. Jihoon just slid his chair over, craning his neck around Soonyoung’s head. “Unless…you’re scared?” He gave Jihoon a shit-eating grin.

Jihoon narrowed his eyes at him and pushed him back in his seat. Soonyoung always knew exactly where to strike. Jihoon had never been the kid to do something just because he’s been dared to, but it felt exactly like he was back on the playground again, and he really didn’t want to lose to Soonyoung.

“I’m not scared,” Jihoon said resolutely. He wasn’t—really. Believing in ghosts in not the same thing. It’s unfair to call him _scared_ when it’s perfectly _rational_ for him not to want to be haunted for eternity.

“Prove it,” Soonyoung had said, “Be in my video.”

And so he did.

Two years and three seasons later, he finds himself here. Here, in Louisville, Kentucky. Here, at Waverly Hills Hospital. Here, next to Junhui, shouting at the night sky.

“You can talk to the ghouls all you want, just don’t include me in it,” Jihoon determinedly walks away from him. 

“No, I said ‘us’. We’re in this together, Jihoon. You and me.” He reaches out and takes hold of Jihoon’s hand and interlocks their fingers, looking straight at the camera, grinning widely. “Partners for life.”

Jihoon just takes a deep breath, wondering what choices in his life had led up to this moment. Surely, befriending Soonyoung was one of them. He pulls his hand out of Junhui’s grasp, palm still tingling, and turns to look at him with a pained expression.

“Do you _want_ us to die?” Jihoon gripes. 

Junhui just grins wider. “Oh come on, lighten up a little. We’re undefeated!”

“Everyone’s undefeated until they aren’t,” He points out.

“Oh, that’s true.” Junhui turns to the camera and widens his eyes, pulling a face. “Uh-oh.” His tone, however, is somehow even more chirpy.

“You pain me,” Jihoon says, wearily.

“You love me,” Junhui replies, with a lilt in his voice.

Not a mutually exclusive concept, but Jihoon doesn’t argue. “You’re on your own.”

“It’s not like you would let the ghouls take me, right?” He tilts his head into Jihoon’s vision, batting his eyelashes.

Jihoon just raises his eyebrows and presses his lips into a thin line, “Well.”

Junhui clutches his chest dramatically, turning to the camera. “Did you hear that?”

Soonyoung laughs at them behind the camera, and gestures at them to keep moving forward.

They enter the hospital through the main entrance, each armed with a single flashlight. The rings of light do little to illuminate their surroundings, but he can still make out the faded peeling walls and rusting metal pipes that run along the ceiling. During the pre-interview, the director of the building had assured them that, haunting aside, the building was structurally sound. Nevertheless, Jihoon can’t help but feel a chill run through veins when the door squeaks open on rusted hinges and they immediately walk into a cobweb. He resists the urge to close the distance between him and Junhui, who was still merrily walking through the hall, unfazed by the cobwebs.

They set up to do their introduction, which should in theory be the least scary thing they have on the agenda, but Soonyoung insists that they do it with their backs to the long never-ending hallway. Even with the lights they bring for the shoot, it only casts eerie shadows on the walls. 

Jihoon glances back while Soonyoung and Chan, their cameraman and production assistant, set up the cameras. He shines the flashlight down the hall for good measure, but it just barely illuminates the end of the hall. He made sure to buy the high-beam extra bright flashlight too, but it just casts shadows on the wall that unnerves him more than anything. There’s a click and another beam of light joins his, shining the other half of the hall. 

“Scared?” Junhui asks, waving his light back and forth.

Jihoon gives him a look, “Are you?” 

“I’m going to be honest with you Jihoon,” he begins solemnly, “I can’t see shit.” 

Jihoon frowns, “What?”

“Forgot my contacts, and I don’t have my glasses.” He stretches his arm in front of him and closes one eye. “Everything beyond a five feet radius is just a fuzzy blob. Nothing can scare me.”

“Are you serious?” Jihoon snorts. Junhui _was_ a little more cheerful than usual on these trips, but Jihoon thinks any normal person should, if anything, be _more_ worried when they can’t see five feet in front of them. 

Junhui turns to him, swinging his arm with him. His hand stops just a few inches in front of Jihoon’s face, and he drops his arm and smiles brightly at him.

“Oh, don’t worry Jihoon, you’re still the cutest fuzzy blob to me.”

Jihoon makes sure Junhui sees him roll his eyes with full force, but he can’t help but feel the corners of his lips quirk upwards anyways. Junhui just laughs, boisterous and echoing in the night. Soonyoung signals that they’re ready to film. 

The introduction goes over pretty smoothly. He’s already read the script to the intro beforehand, but saying the words “The Body Chute” out loud still gives him shivers. 

After packing away the lights and the heavier equipment back in their van, the four of them set off again towards the more haunted spots in the hospital. Their first stop is the infamous “Body Chute”, a tunnel approximately 500 feet long that was used to transport patients who passed away during the height of the tuberculosis crisis. 

The entrance to the chute is a single white door located on the outside of the building. With a crucifix of marble above the walls contrasted against the dark crumbling brick walls, Jihoon can’t help but think it shines like a foghorn for spirits. He gives Junhui an expectant look, and Junhui returns a smile before opening the door to the chute and heading in first, with Jihoon following close behind. 

The tunnel is just as ominous and eerie as you would expect a tunnel called “The Body Chute” to be. It’s decently wide and has sufficiently high ceilings, but is still just as rundown as the rest of the hospital. There’s water stains and mold along the edge where the ceiling meets the walls and if he didn’t die from a ghost possession tonight, he was sure that mold poisoning would be his tragic end. 

Unlike the rest of the hospital, the walls are unnervingly devoid of graffiti. While he doesn’t really miss the giant sprayed on faces that catch him off guard every time he turns the corner, he did at least find the “I Love Pot” graffitti amusing. And graffiti is a sign of life—that someone had been there, and hopefully gotten out. But the tunnel is still, and there’s a cold shiver that runs through Jihoon every so often that he’s not sure can be attributed to wind chill. 

Junhui shines his flashlight down the chute, but the light doesn’t even reach the end, creating the illusion of a black hole at the end of the tunnel. 

“Even I can admit this is creepy,” Chan murmurs. He had been the only production assistant willing to be the cameraman for the shoot. Seungkwan had claimed to be too busy assisting Jeonghan with another series, which Jeonghan amusedly had no recollection of. 

Jihoon clicks on his flashlight too, but it does little to abate the black hole. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he grimaces. He turns to Junhui, “You can see that, right?” 

Junhui nods, a little quieter than he had been earlier. “It’s like Satan’s cement butthole.”

Soonyoung and Chan laugh, but Jihoon is thoroughly unamused. 

“It looks like the path to hell,” He says forlornly. 

“I guess we better find out,” Junhui’s tone is still annoyingly perky. He swings an arm around Jihoon’s shoulder and pulls him forward.

They begin their trek through the tunnel, but it’s horrifyingly never ending. The walls get more grimey, and the water stains get larger and more pronounced. The air is stale and musty and gets increasingly suffocating as they walk on. The tunnel is at just a slight slope downwards, which bolsters their walking speed but even so, they walk for what seems like forever and there’s still no signs of relief. 

“What do you think will be at the end?” Junhui wonders out loud. 

“Hopefully nothing,” Jihoon tries to calm the tremble in his voice, but it’s hard to do when the wind keeps whistling through the tunnel (at least, he hopes it’s just the wind) and his fleece jacket barely warms him. 

“If there’s anyone down there, can you let us know?” Junhui shouts down the tunnel. Jihoon promptly smacks his chest, shooting him a glare. “What?” Junhui looks at him innocently, “Couldn’t hurt to ask.” 

Jihoon shakes his head, but stays next to him anyways. 

An arduous five minutes later, they reach what is presumably the end of the tunnel. There’s a giant plastic tarp that covers the tunnel, from ceiling to floor. The hospital director had mentioned that there was maintenance being done at the chute, which would explain the tarp and the wiring on the floor. A soccer ball had also found its way down here, and Jihoon just hopes it’s from trespassers who kicked it down the tunnel--not from the ghost boy that supposedly roams the hospital. 

“I guess this is the end.” 

“Not the end,” Junhui remarks, pointing at the corner. There’s a slight opening at the bottom corner of the tarp to get to the other side. “We should go through.”

“We should turn around,” Jihoon immediately replies. 

“We should go through,” Soonyoung agrees. He and Junhui turn to look expectantly at Jihoon, who stood closest to the opening in the tarp. 

Jihoon groans. It wasn’t the first time these gemini gremlins had pushed him through another one of death's doorways, but he can’t help but feel like every time would be the last. “If I die, I’m definitely coming back to haunt you both,” he mutters, ducking down to the opening. 

He grips the corner of the tarp and lifts it up, sticking his head through the other side. The moment he tries to step through, a loud whooping noise reverberates through the entire tunnel and he swears there's a flash of light in the darkness on the other side. He immediately ducks out. Despite his job turning out to be what it is (looking for ghosts in Kentucky, it seems), he refuses to be the idiot that ignores all the warning signs and walks straight into a dark death tunnel. 

“Nope, nope, nope. Absolutely not.” He jumps away from the opening and back towards the way they came. 

“What was that noise? It didn’t sound like the wind,” Junhui muses, lingering back and staring at the opening, even as Jihoon takes his hand and pulls him up the tunnel. 

“We can think about that on the way out,” Jihoon tugs on him, staunchly marching forward. 

“Hold on,” Soonyoung calls them, stopping Jihoon in his tracks. He turns around wearily. Soonyoung has a decidedly wide smile, too wide for someone who just heard an unidentified noise in a death chute. “What if you stay down here, and we go up there, and we turn off all the lights, and see if something comes?”

“What if you go fuck yourself, how about that?” Jihoon spits back. Soonyoung is unfazed, only smiles wider. 

“How can you call yourself a ghost-hunter?”

Well, he doesn’t, for starters. Reluctant co-host, yes. Exasperated friend, for sure. But ghost-hunter—that implies not only the detection of ghosts, but also their destruction, and that is a career that Jihoon did not sign on for. Aspiring ghost-discoverer, maybe, at best. 

He knows this is a losing battle—once Soonyoung gets an idea in his mind, it’s nearly impossible to wrangle it from his grasp. Jihoon has a notoriously bad track record of saying ‘no’ to Soonyoung’s ideas, anyways. Being here is proof enough of that. And it would be good content, the video producer side of him argues. Nothing like baring yourself alone to the paranormal to get views. But additionally, the rational (ghost-believing) side of him also thinks that _not_ getting possessed by ghosts is a much more ideal way to live, views or not. 

Luckily for him, the job of co-host also means that Soonyoung has more than one victim. He turns and looks at Junhui desperately, making sure his eyes are appropriately downturned and his bottom lip is jutted out just the right amount. Junhui regards him with a soft look and rubs his fingers over Jihoon’s knuckles. 

“I want to do it,” Junhui volunteers. 

Soonyoung narrows his eyes at them, but nods anyways. Jihoon lets out a silent sigh of relief, eyes immediately brightening up, and squeezes his hand back in a thanks.

“We can head to about a quarter up the tunnel?” Soonyoung gestures back up the chute. 

Jihoon lets go of Junhui’s hand, but Junhui catches it again in his grasp, tugging him back. 

“Good luck kiss?” Junhui pouts. Jihoon scoffs, eyes flitting to the camera before returning his gaze and giving him another eye roll. Junhui opens his mouth to protest but Jihoon grabs at his shoulder and tilts him down to give him a quick peck. He lets go and swiftly turns around to head back up the tunnel. 

“Good luck.” 

Junhui laughs.

They walk until Junhui is nearly out of sight, just a blip in the low light. 

“Are you ready?” Jihoon shouts down the tunnel. 

“Yeah,” Junhui responds, his voice distant. 

“Alright, on my count.” Soonyoung begins counting down. On ‘one’, they all click their flashlights, leaving them in complete darkness. 

The silence is chilling. Without the lights, all his senses are heightened—he can hear even the slightest creak, the softest whisper. He couldn’t see Chan in front of him, but he could feel the way his rubber soles squeak against the concrete floor with every minute shift. 

“If there’s someone here, now’s your chance.” Junhui says, his voice carrying up the tunnel. 

“Be quiet,” Jihoon hisses. He knows that their record has been spotless so far, and no ghosts have seemingly followed them back to Los Angeles either, but it really wasn’t a risk he wanted to take. 

As his eyes adjust to the darkness, he can faintly make out Chan’s and Soonyoung’s silhouettes next to him, but even so, a shiver runs through him and he feels despairingly alone. 

“This is kind of beautiful,” Junhui remarks nonchalantly, like he was in a meadow watching a deer drink from a stream, instead of in a chute literally used to transport dead bodies. 

Suddenly, a high-pitched screeching sound fills the tunnel. It doesn’t sound like anything in particular, natural or machinery. He hopes it’s a maintenance worker opening a rusted gate somewhere, but his blood runs cold in his veins. It stops as abruptly as it starts. He turns to Soonyoung and Chan, but he can barely make them out in the dark.

“Did you hear that?” Jihoon calls back to Junhui. There’s no response. 

“Jun?” Silence. 

Jihoon’s heart starts pounding wildly in his chest, his brain already jumping to the worst conclusion: Junhui’s brazenness has caught up to him in the form of a vengeful ghost. A demon jumped out from the hole in the wall and has overtaken him. The little ghost boy really wanted someone to play ball with. He turns to Soonyoung and Chan, and they both look just as worried as him.

“Junhui?” Soonyoung calls. 

No response. 

“Fuck,” Jihoon mutters, jumping to his feet and running down the tunnel, clicking on his flashlight. To his relief, he still sees Junhui at the end of the tunnel, his back facing them.

He speeds up, sprinting towards the end of the tunnel. He can hear Soonyoung and Chan trail behind him, their equipment slowing down their pace. Even when he’s just a few feet away, Junhui doesn’t turn around. 

“Jun?” Jihoon calls out quietly. There’s still no response, and Junhui remains still, facing the exit. There seems to be nothing past the tarp, and it looks relatively the same as when they left it. 

“Jun?” He touches his shoulder, but still nothing. Not even a shift, or a flinch. Jihoon gulps nervously and tries to brace himself for the worst. What did ghost possessions even look like, anyways? 

He walks slowly around him, turning to look at his face. Only then does Junhui move, turning to look at him with a vacant expression, tilting his head. He doesn’t look any different—his eyes aren’t glowing red, or rolling to the back of his head. None of the horror movie tropes. Just the vacant stare. 

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

“Junnie?”

Soonyoung and Chan have now caught up to him, staring at them, wide-eyed. His mind is running at a mile a minute, trying to remember where he kept his vial of holy water. He wasn’t even sure if holy water was effective on ghosts, or if it was only demons. Or if this was even a ghost at all. How were you even supposed to exorcise a ghost? Throw holy water on them and pray for the best? 

“Jun—” 

“BOO!” Junhui shouts, instantly raising his arms over his head in a menacing pose. Jihoon jumps backwards, instinctively shouting back in response. 

They continue like that—screaming at each other until Junhui breaks down into a fit of laughter. Jihoon closes his eyes, trying to will his heart to pop back into his chest. He takes several steps back and leans against the wall, glaring at Junhui, who was now laughing uproariously. 

“You bastard,” Jihoon breathes out. “I thought a ghost got you.” Junhui’s still laughing. “I thought you _died_.” Junhui doesn’t let up, and Soonyoung and Chan joins him in the laughter. 

They don’t usually pull pranks on-camera, since it is a (somewhat) serious ghost-hunting show, and it would just be extra work for Wonwoo to edit out later. 

Jihoon just huffs, pushing past all of them and striding up the tunnel back towards the entrance. 

“I hate you all,” He yells back, no real malice in his voice, but loud and booming nevertheless. 

He hears quick footsteps, and Junhui is suddenly next to him. Jihoon is determined not to look, not to give him the satisfaction of seeing his flustered face, his resolve powered by the angry beating in his chest. 

“You lied.” Junhui just says. He can hear the smile in his voice. 

“No, I really do hate you all,” Jihoon assures him, picking up his footsteps. 

“No,” Junhui corrects, “You said you would let the ghosts take me,” he chirps. “But you came back for me.” 

Jihoon opens his mouth, but he doesn’t know what to say back to that, so he closes it again, pressing his mouth into a thin line. He turns to glower at Junhui, who was still smiling at him. 

Jihoon was pissed off—a little at Junhui, but mostly at himself for falling for it in the first place. It isn’t the first time something like that has happened—Jihoon _is_ just pityingly gullible. Fool me once, fool me twice, or something to that effect. 

But the smile on his face is irking him—it’s playful, joyful, filled with innocence, like he hadn’t just made Jihoon worry for his life and then scared the shit out of him all in the span of two minutes. 

He grabs Junhui by the front of his shirt and pulls him down until they’re barely an inch apart. Jihoon scans his face, but Junhui is still cheerful, eyes twinkling even in the dark of the tunnel. 

He leans in and proceeds to plaster him with a sloppy kiss, a messy slide of their lips. The hand on Junhui’s shirt slips up to his neck, thumbing along the side of his jaw. He tugs him ever so slightly closer and Junhui falls easily. He darts his tongue out and Junhui makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, which only spurs him on. He slides his other hand around Junhui’s waist, running up and down his side, and Junhui leans instinctively into his hold. He pulls away when Junhui tilts his head further, but not before making sure his tongue lingers on his lips, for good measure. 

“Of course I would,” Jihoon says quietly, breath still ghosting over his lips, lashes falling slowly over his eyes. 

When he lets go, Junhui is looking at him, flustered, wide-eyed, and out-of-breath, smile wiped off his face.

_That_ feels like appropriate retribution, and he turns to walk back up the tunnel, pleased. 

Junhui catches up to him, quickly falling into stride, their steps mirroring one another. Jihoon resists the urge to look, determined to preserve his cool resolve. But, as with many things in Jihoon’s life, Junhui is the Achilles’ heel and he can’t help but spare a quick glance, poisonous arrow be damned. Junhui is already looking him, smile unaffected. 

+++

Their last stop for the day is on the fifth floor, supposedly the most haunted room of all—room 502. They were to spend the night in this room, because Soonyoung, so of course they had to. Supposedly, at least two nurses died in the hospital, both times by room 502. In between the electroshock therapy and the literal chute of death, he doesn’t know how the hospital managed to stay open for so long. The room looked more or less like the rest of the building—splotchy graffitied walls, and worn down wooden beams lining the doorway and windows. 

There would only be two cameras set up for the night, watching each side of the room. Jihoon is keen to suggest that the person to come up with the idea (Soonyoung) should be the one spending the night in the haunted death room, but that responsibility unfortunately fell on the hosts (Jihoon, reluctantly), and so Soonyoung was going to pleasantly spend the night in his (not haunted) hotel room. 

Jihoon tries not to think too much about the story the hospital director had told them earlier that night about the room—things pelted at tents, kids giggling outside, footsteps on the roof. Another shiver runs through his spine. 

“Cold?” Junhui asked.

He shook his head, “Ghosts.” 

Junhui smiled, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Jihoon tosses him a tired look, “Last time, you told the ghosts at the Whaley House to follow you home.” 

“What’s the harm in that?” He shrugs, innocent. 

“We live in the same house,” Jihoon grits out. 

Junhui purses his lips, “You were the one who asked me to move in.” 

“We both decided—that’s—that’s not the _point_ of this conversation.” Jihoon splutters.

Junhui just leans over and gives him a quick, chaste kiss. “Love you too.” 

Jihoon quickly forgets what the point of the conversation even was, ears flushing behind his hair and considerably more warmed up. 

When he recovers and tries to argue back, Junhui is already on the other side of the room with Soonyoung and Chan, commenting on one of the more vulgar graffiti in the room. 

They finally finish getting the final shots of the room a little after midnight, cueing Soonyoung and Chan’s departure for the night. Soonyoung is notoriously bad with directions, and Chan claims to be lost in the cinematography while filming, whatever that means, so they walk them to the staircase. 

“Good luck tonight,” Soonyoung says cheerily, directing all of his sentiment at Jihoon. It’s a testament to life’s cruelty, that he’s the one actively trying _not_ to disturb the paranormal, but is also somehow the most susceptible to their wrath due to the company he keeps. 

“You are the bane of my existence,” Jihoon deadpans, as he likes to remind Soonyoung on every trip. 

“Don’t die!” He continues, unaffected. 

Chan claps a hand on Jihoon’s shoulder, looking solemnly into his eyes. “It was really nice knowing you.” 

Jihoon pulls his hand off his shoulder and narrows his eyes at him, “You—” 

Chan laughs and runs away, hiding behind Soonyoung before he can get to him. Jihoon thinks he’s has been spending a little too much time with Soonyoung recently—he’s beginning to turn into the spitting image of him. Jihoon just huffs loudly, exasperated. 

“Alright, good night!” Soonyoung begins to head down the stairs, “We’ll see you in the mornin—”

“Jihoon, what’s that in your hand?!” Junhui shouts, jumping backwards and pointing at him with a horrified expression.

Jihoon feels his heart jump into his throat and shakes his hands, holding it out in front of him. “What? What? What do you see?” He yells back, his voice straining. 

This was it. This was the end. He had lived a decent life, not too many regrets. Ghost possession was one way to go, maybe not the best way, but that would be something to tell everyone at the office—

Junhui grabs his hand, interlocking their fingers together. “My hand.” He gives him a devilishly striking grin, smiling so wide it reaches his eyes, folding them into half-moon crescents. 

Jihoon’s heart is definitely lodged somewhere in his head, because he can hear it pounding in his ears. It just barely muffles out the sound of Chan and Soonyoung coughing out exasperated laughs. 

He knows it’s not the time or place, what with his nervous system going into overdrive fight-or-flight mode and all, but Junhui, he can’t help but think, is a wickedly good actor. Maybe in another life, his talents wouldn’t be wasted on scaring the life out of Jihoon. He takes a deep breath and gives Junhui a dead-eyed stare. 

“You’re shameless.” 

Junhui only grins wider when Jihoon doesn’t let go of his hands, just hauls him back down the hall to the room. 

+++

Sleep was the key to having a healthy lifestyle, but also, not being haunted by spirits was also a pretty good way to live. He tells Junhui just as much—if they stayed up all night, they wouldn’t get possessed. 

“What makes you think being awake will stop them?” Junhui had asked, before immediately passing out into a light snore. 

That chilled Jihoon to his bones, which is exactly why he was still awake at 3:20AM. Junhui is still peacefully snoring away—like he was sleeping in their bed at home and not on the floor in an abandoned hospital. 

“Jun,” Jihoon whispers. 

Junhui shifts, but doesn’t wake. 

“Jun,” Jihoon says a little louder. 

“Hmm?” Junhui turns, but doesn’t open his eyes. 

“Junnie,” Jihoon all but whines. That gets Junhui to open his eyes at least halfway, still weighed down with sleep. 

“Yes, dear?” He mumbles out. 

“I can’t sleep.” 

Junhui murmurs something incoherent and closes his eyes again, and Jihoon thinks it sounds like a mixture between “that’s too bad” and “good night”. 

“Junnie,” He whines even louder. Junhui opens his eyes again, but it’s lidded and unfocused. “What if the ghosts come when I sleep?” 

“No ghosts,” Junhui mumbles, taking his hand out of his sleeping bag and reaching over to hold Jihoon’s. Jihoon clasps it tight in his hand, pulling it to his chest.

“What if the ghosts comes, and I can’t unzip the sleeping bag in time, and I’m trapped?” 

“Then unzip,” Junhui says, barely coherent. Jihoon squeezes his hand hard, causing him to flinch, shifting in his sleeping bag. 

“What if unzipping the sleeping bag makes it easier for the ghosts to possess me?” 

“Then zip,” Junhui tries to pull his hand from Jihoon’s grasp, but Jihoon doesn’t let go. 

“But then I’ll get trapped,” Jihoon wails. The sleeping bag was pretty snug, so zipping it made Jihoon feel trapped. But unzipping it let in all the cold air and also potentially, _ghosts_, which was arguably just as bad.

“Can you even outrun ghosts?” Junhui mumbles nonchalantly, but that only made Jihoon whine louder and squeeze his hand harder. That jolts Junhui awake significantly and he turns to Jihoon.

“We can combine our sleeping bags,” he suggests. Use one of their sleeping bags as a blanket and the other as the bed. It would provide most of the same security, with none of the worries of being trapped in a blanket cocoon and turning into a human sausage for paranormal predators. Jihoon nods eagerly. Junhui groans, despite the one to suggest it in the first place, but climbs out of his sleeping bag while Jihoon unzips his fully, rolling it out onto the floor. 

When they finally manage to rearrange themselves properly, Junhui has his head on Jihoon’s chest, one leg swung over his thighs, and his arm looped around his waist. Junhui’s sleeping bag is draped over them as a blanket. 

“Now I’m dead weight,” Junhui jokes. Jihoon frowns and grumbles and moves to push him away, but Junhui just burrows deeper into his side.

He doesn’t deny that he feels much more secure like this, Junhui’s warmth enveloping him from all sides. He can feel Junhui’s breathing evening out, watching as he falls asleep just as quickly. Jihoon, on the other hand, is not subject to the same ease. 

The thing about abandoned hospitals is that there are no doors. Absolutely none. Besides the entrances to the building and The Body Chute, there is not a single door in the entire building. Jihoon supposes that makes sense—doors are a valuable commodity, and there’s no use for doors when there’s no one in the hospital. This logic seemed to extend to windows as well—dilapidated windowpane frames barely held together, rattling under the fall breeze. In most cases, they’re gone altogether, leaving just a hole in the wall. 

The combination of these two—lack of doors and lack of windows—made for a very harrowing night in room 502. There were two main doorways to enter the room, and both led out to an empty, dark hallway. In addition, there were several windows that looked out to both the dark hallway and the night sky outside.

If he kept his eyes in one place for too long, he started imagining people and things coming through doorways and windows. The problem was, there wasn't a wall without a doorway or window, so he was stuck in an endless loop, eyes shifting from one wall to the next and round and round until his muscles tired out. 

When the layer of peeling paint on one of the wall flaps up and down in the corner of his eye, he tries to convince himself that it’s a result of the fall wind whistling through the room and not a paranormal apparition. But then something else seems to move on the other side of the room and he nearly gets whiplash craning his neck to see it.

After about the fourth possible ghost sighting, he figures that he definitely does not need to suffer through this alone, so he starts to shake Junhui awake. 

“Jun.”

Junhui shifts, but then buries his head into the crook of Jihoon’s neck instead. 

“Jun,” he begins slapping Junhui’s arm. “Do you see that?” 

Junhui moves off of him and rolls over to reach for the flashlight. He clicks it on and waves it around. 

“Where?” 

“On the corner, I saw something flash by.”

Junhui squints, but then shakes his head. 

“Don't see anything.” He clicks off the flashlight and lies back down. 

“You don’t see anything because you _can’t_ see without your glasses,” Jihoon groans. He grabs the flashlight and clicks it on again. He shines it across the room, but nothing seems out of the ordinary—at least, not more than usual for an abandoned hospital. 

Junhui stills at the rightful accusation, and then proceeds to roll over and assume his original position draped over Jihoon. 

“You got me there,” he mumbles into his chest.

Jihoon opens his mouth to retort again when there’s a rustling and shuffling sound somewhere against the back wall. 

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” 

Jihoon sighs. He might as well have brought their cat to ghost-hunt instead. Much more alert, and at least Jerry wouldn’t try to scare Jihoon in a death chute. 

“It sounded like a whisper,” Jihoon says quietly. 

“There's a lot of wind,” Junhui replies, matching his volume. 

“No—it sounded like someone whispering something,” Jihoon insisted. It sounded like hushed whispers from across the room. 

“What did the whisper say?” Junhui lifts his head to follow Jihoon’s line of sight. 

“I don’t know—they were whispering!” Jihoon hissed back. 

“Jihoon, relax, sleep.” Junhui places a hand on Jihoon’s chest, pushing him back down and immediately enveloping him again. 

“I can’t sleep.” He whines. The warmth surrounding him does nothing to ease the paranoia thrumming through his veins. 

“They won’t get you,” Junhui says calmly, hand coming up to card through his hair. 

“You don’t know that,” Jihoon frowns. 

“I’m your shield--they’ll get to me first,” He throws his limbs across Jihoon dramatically. “And that should give you enough time to run away.” 

Jihoon knows it’s a joke, but he still can’t help but huff, “I’m not going to leave you behind.”

Junhui is silent, and the hand in his hair pauses. “I know,” he says softly before perking up again. “But I give you full permission to save yourself. No guilt attached. I promise.”

Jihoon just burrows himself a little closer into Junhui’s hold. “Okay,” he says, unconvincingly. “Still can’t sleep.” 

Junhui hums, “Maybe I can help with that.” The hand wrapped around his waist shifts decidedly lower and Jihoon’s breath hitches in his throat. 

“Junhui,” Jihoon grits out, the position of Junhui’s hand definitely taking a forefront in his mind over any paranormal activity, “I can’t tell you how unsexy the floor of an abandoned hospital is.” 

“Hmm.” Junhui makes no indication of moving his hand. 

“A woman died outside that window,” Jihoon states grimly, turning to him. 

Junhui stills, and then gives a resigned breath and loops his arm back up around Jihoon’s waist.

“Just trying to help,” He mumbles into Jihoon’s shoulder. 

Jihoon sighs, “Keep me distracted?” 

“Was trying to,” Junhui points out. 

Jihoon snorts, “Any other methods?” 

Junhui deliberates, ”You wanna hear about my day?” 

“We spent the entire day together,” Jihoon points out. Some downsides of living with your coworker (‘working with your boyfriend!’ as Junhui likes to insist).

“Right, so you wouldn’t even have to pay attention. Just let my incredibly soothing voice lull you to sleep.” He sounds gravely serious, but Jihoon lets out a short laugh. He did have a very nice voice. 

Jihoon presses his lips to Junhui’s forehead and runs his hand up and down his back, the familiar ridges grounding him, even if they were two thousand something miles from their home. 

“Sing for me?” 

Junhui looks up at him, surprised, but nods.

He begins humming a familiar melody, an old song ingrained into Jihoon’s mind, vague flashes on the television set, his mother’s humming loud and clear above it all. When Junhui begins to sing, it’s in his native tongue, the words rising from his chest. Jihoon is just as familiar with this version, with the way Junhui’s absentminded singing fills up their apartment in the early mornings and late nights. It all blends together in his head anyways, the version his mother hums melding with Junhui’s, a combination of just barely familiar words into an intimately familiar melody. 

++

He doesn’t know when he falls asleep, just that they wake up to the blaring alarm and the rising sun through the window. Nothing seems amiss—no walls crumbled or sudden apparition. There’s a text from Soonyoung telling them that they were ready outside, and Jihoon quickly packs up all their stuff. The sunlight strengthens him in the way that the moonlight diminished all of his resolve but, day or night, haunted or not, he tries to make it a life mission to spend as little time as possible in abandoned hospitals.

Junhui grabs the camera to film their outro on their way out. 

“This location is cleared,” Junhui says pointedly to the camera.

“We survived!” Jihoon adds, when Junhui points it in his face. 

“That’s Waverly Hills Sanatorium, zero. The ghoul boys,” Junhui starts, then swings it back in his face again. 

“One,” Jihoon grins, holding up a single finger. 

“You whimps,” Junhui laughs. 

Jihoon frowns, “Alright, well, don’t provoke them.” 

“You still have an opportunity here,” Junhui just speaks louder. “We’re headed to the airport. Then back to LA.” Jihoon slaps Junhui on the arm, but he’s unfazed. “That’s Los Angeles! We live in Mid-Wilshire! Lovely neighborhood, you can’t miss i—“ 

Jihoon slaps his hand over Junhui’s mouth, shutting him up before he can get anything else out. Junhui says something indignantly, but his voice is still muffled by Jihoon’s hand. Jihoon grabs the camera with his free hand and turns it off. 

He gives him a curt look before taking his hand off of him. Junhui pouts at him, then sticks his tongue out at Jihoon in response before opening his mouth again. 

“If you take a left on West Olympic—” 

Jihoon pulls him down, sliding their lips together. He’s running on barely three hours of sleep, and has no energy to make sure Junhui doesn’t taunt any spirits into haunting them, so he silences Junhui the only way he knows how. They’re both tired, with the sleeping bag doing nothing to cushion their aging bones from the concrete floor, so he doesn’t so much kiss him as lazily massage Junhui’s lips with his own. But he lingers, making sure to pointedly graze Junhui’s bottom lip with his teeth before pulling away again. _That_ effectively gets Junhui to shut up. 

Junhui doesn’t open his mouth again, lips shut in a wide smile, choosing instead to hum a comically appropriate song. Jihoon can’t help but hum along too. They walk side by side, his hands instinctively slipping into Jihoon’s, and they make it out of the hospital without any further ghost provocation. 

Soonyoung is parked just at the entrance, waving to them despite holding two coffees in his hands. 

The hospital loses much of its intimidation factor in the daylight. It’s still worn down and ominously large, the cracks in the building much more visible in the daylight, but the brick patterns and spires are actually quite architecturally admirable. Even the hallways, seemingly never-ending last night, are now brightly lit and covered in more amusing graffiti. Without the ominous owl hooting in the background and the constant wind chill, it’s much less terrifying. 

He isn’t scared—that's what he tells the camera every episode, anyways. On the record: Jihoon believes in, but is not scared of, ghosts. 

Off the record: Jihoon knows that now, his bravery in the face of any paranormal apparition has less to do with actual courage and more to do with the hand intertwined with his own. 

Fingers absentmindedly run up and down the back of his hand, tugging him towards the car. It’s accompanied by the flash of a grin, eyes bright, and Jihoon thinks they could even stand to spend another night there. He isn’t scared, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!  
the song junhui sings is his cover of [I'm sorry, I love you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cd3_YqMUmuQ), which was originally an ost for an old korean drama!! 
> 
> as always, you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/jungnoonoo)


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